Generally Confused
by anonymous VI
Summary: General Cross leaves chaos and destruction in his wake wherever he goes, but rarely so much as he left in Anita's small port town when he sailed away and disappeared. But whatever happened between the two to create such a strong bond? Cross/Anita, because there is so little of it.
1. It was raining

The rain poured down like it was never going to stop, and Anita pulled the curtains of her suite closed with a sigh. The weather had been like this often lately, and she could only hope it would clear up soon. However, this was perhaps too much to ask for. The downpour pounding on the roof drowned out almost everything else.

So, really, it was almost a miracle that she heard the knock on the back door.

She blinked, turning her head toward the sound. Just as she thought she might be imagining it, it came again: a firm rapping on the hardwood door.

"Mahoja," she called softly, and her subordinate and friend stuck her head through the inner doorway. "I think we have a guest."

"I'll go see who it is, Mistress," the large woman said immediately. Anita smiled warmly at her unwavering faithfulness. It amazed her sometimes.

The back entrance was at the end of the hall that Anita's rooms branched off of, so the black-haired woman took half a step out into the corridor to greet the new arrival if it was anyone of importance. She was wearing a light silk robe over her sleeping gown since it was late at night, but she didn't really mind talking to people in what some might consider an indecent state of dress. After all, she owned a brothel; this was hardly indecent, to her.

Mahoja opened the door slightly, careful to keep her body between the rain and the expensive Asian carpet. "Who's there?" she demanded.

"Ah, Mahoja, looking as womanly as ever," a deep voice responded.

Anita's breath caught in her throat. That voice was exactly as she remembered it: carefree, indifferent, and self-assured. She knew only one man with a voice like that.

"Mahoja," she said quietly, resting an elegant hand on the sturdy woman's arm. Mahoja looked at her worriedly, but moved out of the way nonetheless.

In the heavy rain stood a tall, slim figure, seemingly unaffected by the downpour. His waist-length hair (she knew it was a vibrant red, even though it was now dark and wet) was plastered to his shoulders and his hands were in the pockets of his long coat.

Anita carefully kept her expression smooth, but inside she was seething. How dare he show up now? The time for visits had long passed. Her hand tightened its grip on Mahoja's arm, and her servant gave her a startled look.

"Anita." He greeted her with just her name, as if he hadn't been away for over six years. This time she couldn't keep quite all of the anger out of her eyes, but if she couldn't make him out clearly through the sheets of rain, he wouldn't be able to see her either. Although it was hard to tell with a man like him.

The three stayed where they were, motionless, Anita's pale hand keeping her serving woman in place, for a few more seconds.

"Anita," he repeated, "I can't say that I mind the rain too much, but it's hard to smoke out here."

She knew that was all she was going to get by way of a greeting. Black hair stirring slightly, she let go of Mahoja's bicep and moved back into the hallway.

"Enter, Cross Marian."


	2. Caution

Anita glided down the hallway, her back to Cross Marian. "Mahoja," she called, without looking back, "See Master Cross to our guest room, please." She glanced over her shoulder at the sopping wet General. "Oh, and get him a towel." She entered her room without another word and shut the door behind her, perhaps a bit more forcefully than necessary.

For a short moment, Anita dropped her perfect posture and leaned her back on the door. She put a hand that felt strangely cold to her face and closed her eyes.

She had been getting used to her life here, in this Asian port city. Everything was familiar to her, everything was right. But now, this man had appeared, and nothing could be right with him there. He had appeared, six years and two months too late for her to ever forgive him.

She stood up, moment of weakness past, and stepped through her sitting room to her bedroom, dropping her sheer robe onto the bed before passing to the bathroom beyond.

Standing at the sink, she paused to examine her face in the mirror for a moment. Her dark eyes below thin, arched eyebrows, just like her mother's, betrayed no emotion, and inwardly Anita nodded in approval. None of her inner turmoil was displayed on her visage, exactly as she wanted it. Exactly as it should be.

Turning on the tap with a steady hand, Anita splashed warm water onto her face, washing away the last traces of makeup like she had washed away the tearstains six years ago. The colour ran off her features, and she watched it swirl down the drain. She reached a hand behind her head and removed the clip that held her long hair back, sighing quietly as the tension was released. Gracefully wiping the water out of her eyes with both hands, she exited the washroom.

She was greeted by a voice. "You look much younger without makeup, Anita," remarked Cross Marian, leaning against the doorframe between the front room and her bedroom. He held the beads that usually hung in place of the door away from himself with a large hand.

"Master Cross," she acknowledged impassively, with a nod. "Why are you in my private apartments?"

Anita decided to ignore the way his eyes trailed down her body. "I couldn't wait any longer to spend my time with a beautiful woman like you."

She couldn't quite hold in the sharp sigh that escaped her lips. "General, please refrain from entering my residence without permission from now on."

He raised an eyebrow. "Permission?"

"Not granted." Her eyes were hard as she gave him a cold stare. "Please return to your room."

"Come on, Anita, I haven't managed to offend you _already_, have I? I only just got here."

The tall woman kept her features carefully void of any emotion, but inside she was stunned. Did he really have no idea as to why she was angry with him? Her question was answered almost immediately when she caught the glimmer of amusement in his eyes. He knew. And he obviously didn't care.

It was as if her body moved on its own. One moment she was standing in the doorway to her washing room, the next she was striding purposefully across the room. Then she lifted up her right hand and backhanded him across the face as hard as she could.

Cross looked stunned, then angry, but before he could speak, she spat, "I can't believe you! You have the gall to come here, completely unannounced and for the first time in six years, and ask whether you've _offended me_?" Anita knew that she had no rein over her emotions at the moment, but for once she didn't care about her appearance.

The tall man caught her wrist in a painfully tight grip before she could hit him again, this time with her palm. His one eye was frightening, but his voice, when he spoke, was almost nonchalant. "That was a little painful, Anita. Don't do it again."

She glared defiantly in his eyes, refusing to react to the throbbing of her wrist. "It was painful? Good. You deserve worse, believe me."

"Why are you so mad? You never hated me this much before," the General said, tightening his hold on her thin wrist.

"That was before! Before you left for six years! Before you didn't even come to my mother's funeral!"

Had she expected some sort of remorse, she would have been sorely disappointed. His eyes were cold, if not so furious as before, but that was only to be expected, as he had known from the start why she was acting the way she was.

Anita truly didn't want to be the first to look away, but his auburn, almost red eye was making her sick. She turned her head to the side, staring straight in front of her.

"Leave, now," she ordered.

Cross watched her for a few seconds longer before releasing her raised hand and turning on his heel. He pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his coat and lit one up as he strode swiftly across her sitting room and marched out the door. He slammed it behind him, making the beautifully crafted china on her walls rattle slightly.

It wasn't until after he was long gone that she wiped her wet cheeks and climbed into her bed, closing her eyes tightly to keep the rest of her tears inside.


	3. Turmoil

The next morning, it was still raining. Anita lay in bed for a good fifteen minutes, listening to the soft beat of the raindrops on the roof over her head. She was still lying on her back in bed, eyes open and completely awake, when Mahoja came to fetch her.

"Mistress! You're still in bed?" exclaimed the bald woman. Anita's eyes stayed focused on the ceiling, half lidded.

"You're usually up much earlier than this," the muscled woman continued. She walked over to the window and threw open the drapes, probably hoping to let some sun in, but grimaced when all that was visible was a sheet of gray.

"I'm sorry, Mahoja," Anita said. "I seem to be somewhat melancholic, today."

Mahoja looked at her sideways. "I saw General Cross leave your apartments last night. Did you say something to him?"

Anita sighed and closed her eyes, turning her head slightly to the side. "Ever since he arrived," she began, "all I can think is that he made my mother love him, and didn't even bother to come to her funeral."

"It's a terrible insult," agreed her servant.

"That is not exactly what I meant." The black-haired woman put an arm over her eyes. "I suppose I thought more that he would feel something for her. If he cared about her at all, he would have come."

"So you think he was just leading her on?" Mahoja's eyes were wide with indignation. "What a bastard."

"He was toying with her feelings," confirmed the Mistress. _He must have been, _she added to herself. _Why else would he not at least pay his respects?_

"I would offer to throw him out, but…" Mahoja trailed off.

"His position is not to be taken lightly," Anita finished. "He is a very powerful man, both physically and influentially." She wondered if all Generals were like this: so sure of their own authority that they disregarded anyone and everyone else…

The black-haired woman sat up in her bed. Complaining about Cross Marian was not changing anything, and she had a business to run. She swung her legs off the side of the bed and stood up.

"Thank you for listening to me, Mahoja," she said, smiling, as the other woman helped her into her robe. "I always feel better after I talk to you."

Mahoja looked away, blushing slightly. "Anything I can do to help," she mumbled.

Anita put a hand to her mouth and let out a short laugh. "Well, would you mind going to your post, then? I think I can take care of myself now." Her serving woman nodded and left the room.

Still smiling, Anita ran her thin fingers through her hair and began to get dressed. She had laid in bed for long enough, and even with an exorcist here, she had to do her job.

She kept the many coloured pots and jars that held her makeup in her washroom. As she chose a few to wear today, she wondered what had brought Cross Marian back to the port city… She shook her head quickly, reminding herself that now wasn't the time to think about that man.

After skilfully applying her makeup and donning a long blue kimono, Anita stepped out of her apartments and glided off toward the front of the establishment.

She was greeted by a few employees on the way, and nodded to them with a smile in salutation. When she reached the front doors, she smiled at the doorman.

"We can open up now."


	4. (Not) just another day

Anita sat down with a sigh on one of the many cushions that decorated her sitting room. Her serving woman stood beside her, large hands clasped behind her back.

After spending the whole day on a surprise inspection of the building, both women were a bit tired. The sun was already setting behind the mountains that encircled the port city, and even though it was still raining, the downpour was not nearly so bad as it had been that morning.

"That was a long day," the black haired woman finally said, "but I think everything went quite smoothly."

"Definitely," Mahoja agreed, nodding. "Even though nobody knew you were planning an inspection today, almost everything was clear!"

Anita smiled happily. "Yes. This really is a well-organized place my mother built."

"Oh, don't give her all the credit," Mahoja teased. "You've been running the place for more than six years and, if anything, it's gotten even more successful!"

"Yes, I suppose," Anita admitted offhandedly. "But now, we need to decide what to do about the kitchen. It seems like they never clean in there!"

Mahoja frowned. "I've warned them before about keeping it neat, but it doesn't seem like the cooks have listened at all. Maybe we should-"

Someone knocked on the door hesitantly. The two women turned their heads to the sound, and Anita indicated that Mahoja should open the door. The bald woman walked swiftly to the entrance and opened the door to reveal one of the brothel workers. He was wringing his hands nervously.

"Good evening," Anita greeted him, smiling kindly. "Is there something wrong?"

"Well," the man began, "a man told me to give you a message."

Mahoja's brows furrowed. "You know you're not supposed to take orders from patrons," she chided.

"He wouldn't take no for an answer," the messenger said, looking slightly annoyed.

Anita sighed, resigned. "Who was it and what did he wish for you to relay to me?" she enquired.

"Well, he was a tall man with long red hair, wearing a strange coat."

Anita's eyes widened, then narrowed. What did Cross think he was doing, ordering her employees around? She hadn't thought that the man was this tactless.

The man looked even more nervous, noticing her grimace. "And he said that you were to dine with him…" He trailed off at the look of pure outrage on his Mistress's face.

"He said that?" she asked coldly. "It was not even a request, he _commanded_ me to eat with him? Who does that man think he is?"

Mahoja whispered something to the unlucky messenger and he nodded quickly, exiting the room and closing the door behind himself. The big woman walked over to Anita and knelt down, looking concerned. "Mistress…" she began, but broke off when she saw the tears glistening in the younger woman's eyes.

"Mahoja," she said, and leaned into the other woman's broad chest. "Why is he doing this to me? He knows I hate him, and he acts like it is just a game for him! He… I just cannot believe that man…"

Mahoja carefully wrapped her arms around Anita, letting the beautiful woman sob quietly into her shirt. She gently rubbed the other's silk-clad back.

"He betrayed my mother, so I cannot forgive him," Anita mumbled. "Why do I feel such strong emotions for this man?"

"You hate him, pure and simple," Mahoja told her, "and hate is probably the strongest emotion humans can feel. Well, apart from love." The big woman looked thoughtful. "But sometimes love and hate aren't so different."

"Well, I definitely do not love him."

Mahoja smiled at her Mistress's tone; it almost sounded like the stoic woman was pouting. A few seconds later, the black-haired woman extracted herself from the other's embrace, sitting up straight and tall again.

"I apologize, Mahoja," she stated, rubbing at her eyes a little. "And thank you for comforting me."

"Anytime," the big woman assured her, grinning. Anita answered the grin with a small smile of her own.

"I think I shall be dining with General Cross this evening," the pale woman decided. "Help me into something more comfortable, will you, Mahoja?"

As she nodded and turned to her Mistress's closet to find some clothing, the tanned woman couldn't help but smile. Her Mistress was such a strong woman, and that Cross would never be able to take her down.


	5. Dining with the Devil

Scarcely an hour later, Anita was changed into a long, flowing black skirt and loose long-sleeved top and a low table had been set up in her sitting room. Two pillows sat on either side of it, and a traditional Chinese meal of rice and steamed vegetables and shrimp was set out on elegant china dishes. Mahoja stood by the wall, ready to attend to her Mistress's needs at any time.

The big woman had just sent for their guest, and was currently admiring how regal, confident and beautiful Anita looked, seated with her long legs curled under her on a red cushion. The skirt was spread out on the floor around her elegantly.

"Are you sure about this, Mistress?" Mahoja asked for the tenth time, frowning worriedly. "You don't have to humour Cross just because he's a General, you know."

"No, I am quite sure, Mahoja," Anita assured her servant. "I do not have to like him to dine with him, and he may be intending to tell me what brings him to China over supper. I am actually somewhat curious about that." She smiled, eyes twinkling. "Besides, as you have already sent someone to fetch him, it is a bit late for second thoughts now."

"I suppose so," the bald woman grunted.

Then there came a knock on the door, and, without even waiting for a reply, Cross Marian let himself into the room. Mahoja glared at him, but he didn't seem to care.

"Good evening Mahoja, Anita," he greeted in his deep, rough voice. Anita had to admit that even if he was not a very nice person, he had a nice, interesting voice. It was almost melodic, at times, a comforting bass.

"Good evening, Master Cross," she replied graciously, not showing her thoughts on her face. Mentally she was scolding herself for thinking of his voice like that. She knew of the General's infamous ways with women, and she was not going to let herself be affected by his charm. "Please, take a seat."

"Don't mind if I do." Cross settled down gracefully, folding his long legs up Indian-style. "This looks delicious," he said, appraising the food and the fine wine that was set out on the table. Anita reached for the bottle and uncorked it, reaching across the table to pour some into his glass. She delicately gave herself some as well before setting the bottle back down. Cross nodded his thanks and took a sip of his drink, grinning appreciatively.

"Wonderful," he told her. "I'm flattered that you decided to use this fine wine on me."

"You of all people would likely be able to tell were it not up to standards, and I did not want to insult you," Anita explained, elegantly arching an eyebrow. "I am glad that you recognize its value."

"This is an Indian brand, if I'm not mistaken," Cross said, swirling the red liquid in his glass. "I've always loved Indian wine."

She almost smiled at that. She, herself, was also a fan of Indian liquor, which was why she had brought it out tonight. Having a good drink on hand could brighten the most dull of events.

Cross scooped up some food and popped it into his mouth. He grunted. "This is good, too. You've got some good cooks, Anita."

"Actually," the woman corrected, smiling, "Mahoja was the one who cooked this." She looked over at the other woman in the room, still smiling. "And it is quite nice."

"I'm glad you like it," the big woman mumbled, looking slightly embarrassed.

Cross laughed openly. "I didn't know you could cook, Mahoja! Somehow it doesn't suit you."

Anita laughed quietly too. The atmosphere in the room seemed to be lightening. Maybe this wouldn't be as bad as she had expected, she thought, turning back to the exorcist.

"So, Master Cross," she began, "what brings you here to China, and in particular, to me?"

The carefree grin immediately dropped off his face to be replaced with a concentrated expression. "I'm on a mission," he informed her. "A very difficult mission that I've been working on for four years now. I only recently discovered the location of what I'm looking for."

Anita raised her thin eyebrows, intrigued despite herself. "And where is that?"

Cross put an elbow on the table and rested his chin on his palm. "Well, that's most of the reason I came to you. You see, it's in Japan."

The black-haired woman couldn't help a gasp escaping her lips. "Japan? But that country is completely closed to foreigners. How will you get in?"

The General's red eyebrows knit together. "I was hoping to borrow a boat."

"That's not what I meant," she snapped. "I meant that they will not let you in!"

"Have you ever tried?"

Anita snapped her mouth shut, frowning. Now that she thought about it, no one that she knew had even attempted to get to the isolated country in close to twenty years.

"I'm not saying that it'll be easy to get there," he continued in his rough voice, "but I do think… no, I know that that country is not what it seems."

"What do you mean by that?" Anita questioned. His deep tone was somehow ominous.

Cross surprised her by putting a hand to his temple. He looked weary, and almost… sad. Anita was genuinely worried now about whatever had gotten such a strong reaction from this normally carefree man.

"I think that most of Japan's population has been… replaced by akuma." Cross stared straight into her dark eyes, now wide with fear. "According to my information, barely a tenth of the residents are still human, and the government is entirely controlled by the Millennium Earl."


	6. Revelations

The rain pounding on the roof seemed like the only sound in the world at that moment. Anita's tilted eyes were frozen, wide open and staring into the auburn eyes of the man sitting across from her.

"What… did you say?" Mahoja gasped in the heavy silence that had fallen over the room. She was standing stock still, hardly even breathing.

"Everyone?" Anita murmured, not able to find the strength to speak in more than a whisper. She let her head fall, staring into her lap. "They are all… dead? How did we not know about this before?"

Cross straightened up, sitting back with a sigh. "Are you forgetting that we're talking about a country that's been cut off from the rest of society for over two hundred years? The Earl could have been doing anything there and we wouldn't have had a clue."

"How horrible." Anita truly could not take this in. The island that she had been living beside for her entire life was just an akuma factory? All those innocent people, unable to escape, were slowly being taken over by machines? It was horrifying. It made her want to throw up.

She felt a firm pressure on her hand and looked up, startled, to see Cross's large hand enveloping her elegant one in a comforting grip. He gave her a brusque nod that she could tell was meant to be reassuring, and she smiled weakly at him.

Mahoja walked over slowly and laid a hand on her Mistress's shoulder. Anita was like her mother in so many ways, and definitely in appearance, but her mother had never been as gentle or caring as her beautiful daughter. Although she hid it behind an emotionless mask sometimes, Anita's heart was one of the biggest Mahoja had ever known.

And that was one of the reasons she was having such trouble forgiving Cross Marian for causing that caring heart such grief. However, at the moment it looked like the General was genuinely trying to comfort the young woman.

"Don't worry, Anita," he grunted roughly, giving her hand one last squeeze before letting it go and leaning back again. "If you lend me a boat, I'll be on my way to that country to stop this abomination."

"But it is dangerous-" Anita stopped herself. Of course it was dangerous, and that was why a General like himself had been sent on this mission instead of just an ordinary exorcist. Why was she so worried about him, anyway? She needed to keep in mind the fact that she disliked this man for toying with her mother, or she just might start to feel something for him. And that would be unacceptable.

"My trading ship is presently returning from Vietnam," she informed him. "It will be back tomorrow at the latest, and you may use it to travel to Japan, if you wish." She had two ships, but the trading ship was smaller than her ceremonial ship and as such might be easier to get into Japan unnoticed. She wanted to keep her crew as safe as possible.

"Thanks, Anita," Cross said in his deep bass. Suddenly, he looked up at Mahoja, who was still standing over them. "Mahoja," he said, "would you mind leaving us for a minute?"

The bald woman looked to her Mistress for approval, and after a moment of hesitation, Anita nodded. The big woman slipped quietly out of the room, closing the suite door behind her.

"What is it that you wanted to say in private, Master Cross?" inquired Anita.

The red-haired man leaned his elbow on the table again, not quite making eye contact with his hostess. "Did you notice, before, that I said that the ship was the main reason I came here?"

Anita blinked. Now that he mentioned it, she did seem to recall that. "So there's another reason, then?" she realized.

Cross chuckled. "You're a quick one, Anita. Yes, there is another reason."

Cross looked straight into her black eyes.

"I realize that I'm a little late- years too late- but I wanted to pay my respects to your mother. Will you take me to her grave so that I can pray for her?"

Anita stared at him, completely astonished, for a second before she caught herself and wiped her face of any emotion. She was not going to give this man the satisfaction of seeing her inner turmoil.

Except… as she examined his eye, he honestly didn't seem like he was trying to get a rise out of her. His single auburn eye was locked on hers, and it seemed surprisingly void of his usual indifference. Could it be that he actually did care about her mother? He had spent all these years away, but now he wanted to see where she was buried, and going by what she knew of the man, he didn't admit his feelings easily. So… could he mean it? She didn't know what to do.

"Anita…" Cross sighed. "I understand. I'm sorry for asking." He began to get up.

Suddenly Anita realized that her features were still completely emotionless. He had probably taken her expression as a 'no', which explained why he was leaving now.

He didn't look at her. Placing his hands on his knees and pushing himself to his feet, he gave another deep sigh and turned to the door.

Anita was torn. He genuinely seemed disappointed… could he really have felt something for her mother? Could it be that the reason he had not visited was not spite, but simply that he had been too occupied? She remembered the look in his eye. The emotion in them had not been a lie.

"Wait!"

She scrambled up and dashed across the room, long skirt billowing out behind her, to where he had just laid a hand on the door and caught his wrist in her thin fingers.

The two were frozen for a moment, Anita's skirt slowly settling back down. Cross slowly turned his head to face her, and she looked up at him, eyes wide and uncharacteristically emotional, from under her long lashes.

"I… I will take you, if you wish."


	7. (Un)fair judgements

Cross stood in stunned silence for a second before he relaxed and took his outstretched hand from the doorknob. He placed it over hers, frowning as if he wasn't sure what to say. Finally, he decided on just a "Thank you."

Anita smiled at that. "I was going to visit her tonight anyway," she told him, "so I suppose you can come along." She released his wrist from her light grip.

Black hair swirling slightly, she turned from him and stepped lightly to her wardrobe, selecting a silk shawl from the closet. She walked back to him, a small smiling gracing her features. "Shall we?"

He opened the door for her and she glided out, nodding to Mahoja who was still standing outside the door. "We are going out for a bit; keep an eye on the place for me, please, Mahoja?"

The bald woman nodded, looking curiously at the pair. She had thought that they were on bad terms, but they seemed to be getting along fine now. The big woman wondered what had been said in her Mistress's sitting room.

"Thank you." Anita smiled at her serving woman, who couldn't help but smile back.

The elegant woman wrapped her shawl around her shoulders and walked toward the back door. Cross followed her, hands in his pockets.

When they stepped outside, it was already long dark and, unfortunately, still drizzling. Anita sighed, stopping herself from glaring at the rain clouds like she wanted to.

"I hope you do not mind being wet," she told the tall man beside her, who grinned.

"Mind? Not at all. In fact, rain is my favourite weather." He looked up at the sky with a contemplating expression.

"Really?" she asked, stepping out onto the street. He followed her, and she shook her head. "I never would have guessed."

"Hm," he grunted. They walked in slightly uncomfortable silence for a few minutes before coming to a small park.

"This was my mother's favourite place," Anita commented, stopping just outside. "I asked the mayor if I could bury her here, under the shelter of the ginkgo she loved so much."

Anita and Cross walked slowly through the trees, Anita holding up her skirt to keep it from dragging on the wet ground. When they reached the centre of the park, both looked up at an old, tall tree that towered over most others. Some of its signature fan-shaped leaves lay scattered across the ground, knocked loose by the heavy rain of the day before.

"I remember this place," Cross remarked, earning a surprised look from his companion. "I think your mother took me here, once. She always did like trees."

"Yes, she did," said Anita softly.

She stepped forward slowly, careful of where she was putting her slippered feet. Cross followed her just past the great trunk of the ginkgo to where a small slab of stone stood erect. It was plainly shaped, but under closer inspection it was revealed to be extremely intricately carved, flowers, vines and leaves seeming so real as to be rustling in the wind. The two people walked around to the front of the grave stone, reading its inscription in silence.

Here lies Jialiu, 1826-1856

Loving and Loved

A Mother and a Friend

Guided by God until her last day

Her memory lies forever in our hearts

Rest in peace

Cross lit a cigarette and took a deep drag, exhaling the smoke slowly. Anita watched him silently as he walked up to the gravestone and rested a strong hand on one of the exquisitely crafted flowers. He whispered something that Anita couldn't quite hear under his breath and closed his eye.

She was still gazing at him when his eye opened, staring straight into hers. The rain drumming on the leaves above their head was soothing; she started to see why he might like it.

Cross strode back to her, placing a hand on one of her slim shoulders. "Thank you for showing me this place," he said, deep voice breaking the silence. She only nodded.

"Anita…" he sighed. "I know why you hate me so much. I came here knowing, but I didn't care. I just want to tell you that I… realize I didn't consider your feelings at all before showing up."

Anita smiled gently. That was as much of an apology as she was ever going to get from this man, and she knew it. "I forgive you."

His hand was still on her shoulder. "You know, Anita, when you were younger, you were so similar to your mother. I thought you were going to grow up to be just like her; beautiful, but hidden from the rest of the world, keeping your emotions in check for business's sake." He sighed. "But you're your own woman now. I don't know what it was in these past six years, but you've changed. You're strong, like your mother, but you're kind too. And…" He stared straight into her eyes. "It's beauty in a completely different form from what I have ever seen. You've grown up to be a fine woman, Anita."

She blinked, startled at his words. Cross Marian didn't really seem to her like the type for speeches, but the one he had just given had touched her in a certain way. She stared up into his auburn eye calmly. Maybe she had had a wrong impression on this man. Maybe he wasn't as much of a womanizing, drunk moron as he was made out to be.

But her thoughts were shattered when he leaned down and kissed her.

For a moment, she was stunned, unable to react. But as she grasped the situation fully, her confusion sharpened into anger.

If he had thought her slap last night had been painful, it paled in comparison to this one. She smashed her hand into his face so hard that his glasses flew off his nose and into the wet grass around them. His one eye disbelieving, he held a hand to his mouth, wiping away a bit of blood that had trickled down his lip.

"You _bastard_!" Anita yelled at him, surprising even herself. "I took you here because I thought you felt something for my mother and were sorry for not coming to her funeral! But then you _kiss_ me, in front of the grave of a woman who _loved_ you?"

She looked coldly into his eyes. "I judged you perfectly from the start, Cross Marian." Then she turned on her heel and fled, holding her black skirt up to her knees as she ran through the trees, away from the man who she had just begun to trust.


	8. The thunderstorm

"Anita!" she heard him shout angrily after her, but she didn't look back. She couldn't stand to even be near him at the moment.

She didn't know or care where she was going. She ran through the city, making random turns in an attempt to lose herself, or better, Cross. After almost ten minutes of running, her body gave out on her and she slumped against an alley wall, panting and crying.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight, pressing her hands to her mouth and trying to hold in her sobs. How dare that man toy with her emotions like this? It was exactly the same as what he had done to her mother. Was he just going through the family, playing with the hearts of every woman he could find?

She blinked, realizing what she had just thought. If she considered him to be playing with _her_ heart, did that mean that she was in love with him, just like her mother had been?

Shaking her head furiously and flinging droplets of rainwater from her bangs, she denied that last thought passionately. There was no way that she had any kind of positive feeling towards Cross Marian.

Suddenly, she remembered what Mahoja had told her that afternoon. What had her friend said? _"Sometimes love and hate aren't so different."_

Maybe there was some sense to that. Both were incredibly powerful emotions, at complete opposite ends of the spectrum one would think, but it so was easy to switch between one and the other in a moment.

Anita let out a shaky breath, picking herself up off the wall. Whether or not she was in love with that man, it was getting very late, and she needed to return home. She stepped out of the alley and looked around before realizing that she had no idea where she was.

Her mad escape from Cross had taken her to a part of the city that she wasn't quite familiar with, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was lost. Glancing around, she took in the run-down buildings, the empty streets and the general dismal atmosphere of the place, she became conscious of the fact that she was in the Port District, the poorest of them all. It was not a good place to be this late at night, especially for a young woman like herself. Anita wasn't a very strong person, and even if she did know a little self defense, she would much prefer to have Mahoja at her side.

Anita started down the road in the general direction of the brothel, staring straight ahead. At the moment, she was glad that there weren't any people around; her expensive blouse and skirt would stick out like a sore thumb, here. She just hoped it stayed this empty until she got to Market District.

The young woman quickened her step, trying desperately to resist her urge to glance around. That would attract attention, were she spotted.

She had almost reached some familiar streets when she rounded a corner and bumped right into someone. She couldn't quite stop a squeak from escaping her lips as she stumbled backwards. She looked up… and then back down into the eyes of the person she had bumped into. He was short, almost her height, but she knew that size could be misleading when it came to strength. There were two more men behind him, both bigger.

"I am very sorry-" she began, but cut off when the man in front reached forward and grabbed her bicep. The other men moved forward, surrounding her in a semi-circle. There was something familiar about their features, but she couldn't quite place it.

"Well, well," said the first man. "A little girl wandering about at night? You're just asking for trouble, girly."

"Trouble…" echoed one of the other two in an empty tone, and Anita looked at him strangely. His eyes looked somehow dazed and unfocused, but before she could think about that she was shaken by the man holding her arm.

"Hey, look at me!" he ordered.

"Look, look…" mimicked the third man, and Man 1 turned to the other two and snapped, "Shut up, morons!"

"Find the General," Man 2 said hollowly, and Anita froze. She realized now what was so familiar about their features.

"You are…" she managed to get out.

The short man looked at her. "Yes, girly?"

Her eyes were wide, and her beating heart would not calm down. "…Japanese," she finished.

He looked into her eyes, taking in the fear that would seem irrational to anyone who didn't know the truth about the island country.

"She knows," he said, and then exploded.

Anita covered her face with her arms- he was no longer holding her in place- and coughed, opening her eyes to find the short man gone. The other two stood there, staring dumbly for a few more seconds before ripping apart to reveal two Level 1 akuma.

Anita stood stock still in terror. She didn't have anything with her to fight akuma, not even a talisman. Her heart beat wildly in her chest as she looked around for the third akuma. Where had he gone?

"Looking for me, girly?" asked an inhuman voice from behind her. She spun around, hair flipping, to find herself face-to-face with the missing akuma. Only, there was something different about this one.

It had an almost human-like body, but it was close to ten feet tall. Its body was a deep, blood red, completely covered by overlapping armour, and its head looked like a thin helmet. It flexed its fingers.

"Impossible…" she gasped. "You could not be… Level 3?"

"She even knows about our levels? Who is this woman?" it wondered.

Anita swung her head back and forth between the Level 3 and the two Level 1s behind her. Could she possibly manage to get away from them? It wasn't looking too likely.

"You can't escape, girly," said the Level 3, advancing toward the pale woman. "Stay out of this," it ordered the other two. "I haven't killed a human in a long time."

Anita screamed as loud as she could when it looked back down at her, hoping that by some miracle, _someone_ would hear her. Another yell froze in her throat as eyes that hadn't been there a second ago opened all over the akuma's face.

"That was beautiful!" it exclaimed, its voice a metallic screech. "I can't wait to hear more!" It swooped toward her.

Suddenly, it was thrown backwards. Anita stared as it flew into a building, crashing into the wall. Something whizzed by her on either side, stirring her hair, and connected with the body of the akuma. Eyes wide, she watched its body start to swell up, distorting its barely-human proportions. She heard screams from behind her, shortly followed by explosions, but she didn't turn around to see what had happened to the Level 1 akuma. Instead she watched, mesmerized, as the Level 3's body began to fall apart and wither away. Finally, it exploded into tiny fragments.

Slowly, Anita turned her head to look behind her. There, standing in the middle of the street, was Cross Marian.

She hadn't needed to turn around to know who it was, though. It had to be Cross, since there were no other exorcists in the city at the moment, but a small part of Anita's mind told her that the way her heart was beating was a dead giveaway, too.

He strode over to her, looking worried. "Anita. Are you alright?"

She smiled, his deep bass voice making her feel safe. "Yes, of course."

"Good," he rumbled. The silence was decidedly awkward for a few seconds. "About that thing in the park…"

"Do not worry about it," she assured him.

He blinked, looking startled. "Your mother would never forgive me," he told her.

"Were you not the one who told me I am not my mother?" she asked with a smile.

"Huh," he grunted. "I suppose I was."

There was nothing wrong with loving the same man as her mother, Anita decided, looking at him. She was her own woman; free to live her life the way she wanted. Her mother never would have denied her that.

"What?" Cross demanded.

"Nothing," she replied, standing on her toes and reaching up to hold his face between her hands. "I'm just glad that you came."

"Who else was going to take care of those akuma for you?" he joked, leaning down toward her.

She closed her eyes, and his warm lips met hers again. This time, she didn't push him away.


	9. Epilogue and Parting

Anita awoke not to the sound of rain on her roof like the past few days, but to deep breathing beside her. She smiled slightly, trying not to move so as not to wake the man beside her.

Last night, after one passionate kiss in the rain, they had returned to the brothel, luckily without being accosted by any more akuma. Mahoja had been frantic with worry about her Mistress's whereabouts, but Anita had managed to calm her down with a few words and a hand over her mouth when the bald woman demanded more information. The black-haired woman had then entered her chambers and gotten ready for bed, finally collapsing onto her soft bed.

She had no idea how he'd managed to get into her suite, but suddenly Cross had been standing in her bedroom doorway. She sat up, startled, and he walked over to her and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

"So," he had said in his rough voice, "since our first and second kisses were completely unromantic, what do you say we give it another try?"

For an answer, she had tangled her right hand in his long red hair and pulled his face to hers. She had discovered that Cross was a very good kisser, although she had already assumed that.

Presently, Anita twirled a few strands of his red hair around her finger, leaning against his chest. His breathing was deep and even, and she absently tried to breathe at the same time as him. It was hard, since he was so much bigger than her.

She felt the arm around her waist tighten as he woke up, and she tilted her face up at him, smiling.

"Good morning," he rumbled.

"Good morning," she laughed back. "How did you sleep?"

"Not very much, in fact," he replied as if she didn't already know that, grinning down at her. "I'm absolutely starving, what about you?"

She smiled and climbed out of bed, picking her nightgown up off the floor. "First, I am taking a shower," she told him. At his look, she chuckled lightly. "Alone."

Grumbling, he swung his long legs out of the bed. "Fine. But I'm not waiting for you to have breakfast."

"I did not expect you to," she assured him. She turned toward her washroom, but stopped at the door and looked over her shoulder. "Oh, and I don't know how you got in, but you might want to leave soon. Mahoja usually comes to wake me up around now."

Anita laughed warmly as he swore and started gathering up his clothes. She walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower, still smiling. She could see why her mother had loved this man so much. As she thought back to two days previous, when he had arrived, she wondered if her mother had ever hated him like that. Probably not; according to Mahoja, it had been love at first sight for the woman. Anita smiled at this. Even though her and her mother loved the same man, they were still completely different people. She was done living in the shadow of her mother.

Three figures stood on the pier as sailors ran back and forth, carrying supplies for the five-day journey to Japan. Mahoja towered over her Mistress protectively and glared at Cross. Apparently, the man had forgotten his glasses in Anita's room, and was now under suspicion. He seemed to be taking it rather calmly, though; he was watching the waves and whistling absently. Anita smiled slightly at him, and the suspicious glower was turned on her. She only smiled at her servant's antics and patted the big woman on the arm.

"Is everyone ready, dogs?" the captain of the ship yelled at his men. A cheer answered him and he grinned, revealing yellow teeth. "Let's get back on the ocean, men!"

Cross grinned. "I like this guy." He turned back to the two women on the dock.

"Safe winds," Mahoja said awkwardly.

He nodded to her. "We can only hope." Then he looked at Anita. "My thanks for the boat," he told her.

She strode forward and put a finger on his chest, looking up into his eye. "You had better stay alive," she warned him, "or I will kill you."

"Feisty," he remarked. "I like that." He held her chin, then leaned down and kissed her. She kissed him back fiercely.

Behind Anita, Mahoja spluttered.

He pulled back and his expression was serious. His face still mere inches from hers, he said, "Don't come after me, Anita, no matter what happens."

Then he turned his back to her and strode up the gangplank and onto the ship, leaving her still wondering about his last statement. What did he think was going to happen?

He climbed up to the deck, leaning on the railing to look back at the women on the dock. The crew let down the sails and the vessel began to glide out to sea. "Anita!" Cross shouted. "You were great in bed!" Some of the members of the crew cheered.

"Why, you bastard!" Mahoja yelled back. "Get back here so I can kick your ass!"

Anita laughed, and so did Cross. "I'd like to see you try!" he called back, grinning smugly.

The ship picked up speed, sailing out of the port. The two women watched it get smaller and smaller. Finally Mahoja turned to her Mistress.

"Did you really sleep with him?" the big woman asked.

"Yes," Anita admitted, still staring out to sea.

Mahoja looked thoughtful for a moment. "Do you love him?"

A beautiful smile spread across Anita's face, showing more than any words could the answer to her servant's question. She spoke them anyway. "I do."

"Huh." Mahoja turned back to the ocean stretching out before them, the red sails just a tiny dot on the waves now. "I guess that's okay, then."

The ship disappeared over the horizon.


End file.
